The Last Date
by sarabrowncolorado
Summary: This is "The Last Date" It is the final chapter in the universe of "The Date." If you have not read "The Date", it will make very little sense. If you are reading "The Date", this will contain many spoilers. Please read the A/Ns for more info.  The characters are not mine.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: This story is not necessarily a "stand alone" piece. It is "The Last Date" and takes place far in the future of "The Date" universe. (It would help if you've been reading The Date). February 19****th**** was the day I posted The First Date and I had intended on being done before the year mark. As you know, I am not done…but I wanted to post the last chapter today anyway. I will still be continuing The Date and filling in the pieces between Chapter 57 and The Last Date so that you will know what lead them to here. Warning. There will be spoilers. **

**If you DO NOT want to know what happens in "The Date", you should stop reading now. For those of you who want to know the ending or those of you who cannot help yourselves (I would totally be reading this if it were presented to me), this is the last chapter. There will be people in this chapter that you have not yet met in The Date, there will be references to events that have not yet occurred. All will be introduced/explained in "The Date", should you choose to keep reading that story. Again, if you do not want to know the ending, stop right now.**

**A/N: Honestly, I couldn't write this story without my two friends who pull me through and push me to continue. This was a joint effort and I owe a huge thank you to Faryn and Ivory for the work it took to get me here, and it took A LOT. To Faryn, for writing the single best line in this chapter. Thank you for being such a great sounding board. To Ivory, who helped me compile a playlist to get me in the right mind to write this chapter. And then helped me out of it. To think it's been a whole year…you've put in so much time with me! Thank you both for that!**

**A/N: To the lovely, lovely readers. Those who started out a year ago and those who started out yesterday. I love you all very much and I hope this does not leave you disappointed.**

**The Two Thousand, Eight-Hundred, and Third Date**

The two thousand, eight-hundred and third date was their last…and the world came tumbling down with it.

It was late summer/early fall, only weeks ahead of their forty-second wedding anniversary. They had plans, small plans; nothing like the extravagant affair that was their fortieth and nothing like the lofty dreams they had for their fiftieth, but the event would be marked just the same. As usual, Dan rose before Blair. He started coffee, took a shower and was waiting for her outside on the deck, reading—as usual. Blair would sleep just a little longer, though their ideas of sleeping in were much changed from their younger days, she still enjoyed the extra time in their bed. She would shower, dress and eventually join him outside. Grabbing her mug of coffee from the kitchen, she made her way towards him; pausing in the doorway to watch him.

He still had it. Even at 64, he still had it. Yes, he was older; but so much about him looked so much as it did the day she had married him. His dark, wavy hair hadn't thinned one bit, though it had made way for just the slightest bit of gray. She grinned to herself as she remembered the first gray hair he found so many years ago and how she had teased him mercilessly about it…right up until she found one of her own. They quickly passed off the credit for those to their children. Her grin widened as she thought of their children; all three of them grown, all three of them successful in their own right; all three of them happy.

He had the softest set of wrinkles that had formed around his eyes from smiling over the years; she liked to take credit for those. He wore glasses now; as did she, though hers were still only for reading. She loved the way he looked in them, had loved the way he looked in them since the moment he put them on his face. He looked so distinguished, so scholarly, so sexy.

And he was healthy; healthier than most 50 year olds…at least according to their own in-family Dr. Humphrey. She wasn't as lucky. Though she was considered _healthy for her age_, her eyes narrowed with disdain whenever she heard the phrase, she still had a small handful of pills she had to take every morning; for a variety of things she never cared to give more attention to. There were other things she was supposed to do; give up caffeine for instance. She chuckled as she sipped from her cup. She didn't care if her child was the doctor. She was the mother and she would do as she pleased—though she did agree to take the pills and cut back on red meat, but mostly at Dan's insistence. Other than the reading glasses, Blair had hardly aged at all. Her hair was still the deep chestnut brown it had always been, though artificially so these days. Her face had grown softer and allowed for a few small wrinkles, but otherwise remained smooth, pristine; flawless. And, regardless of her pills and health concerns, she could still keep up with every single one of her children and grandchildren and, when needed, could pull out the withering glare that had won Dan over so many years ago.

Blair took a step out onto the deck, "Good Morning." He looked up from his book, his face brightening at her voice.

"Good Morning," he smiled up at her as she leaned to place a kiss to his lips. His hand reached up to her neck, holding her to him for just a moment longer; and her blood warmed, images from the night before causing the slightest blush on her cheeks; neither of them had waned in that department. Yes, even at 64, Dan Humphrey still had it.

"Mmmm…." Blair sighed, her fingers playing slightly with the curls at the nape of his neck. "So, what are you doing today?"

"I thought I might head out to the loft," he squeezed her hand as she slipped away from him; taking her seat and reaching for a pastry. "I am doing that lecture at NYU next week and thought the scenery would help with some inspiration."

"Sure," she nodded. About ten years ago they had completed a massive renovation at the loft; turning it into a gorgeous office and creative space for Dan, now quite the accomplished author. He would write there; novels, editorials, forwards for up and coming young authors, or his guest lectures that he would occasionally be asked to give at colleges and Universities. Though Blair had an office at The W headquarters, she often found herself working at the desk they had moved into the loft for her. Over the years he had found that working alongside her was leaps and bounds better than working without her.

"What about you? What are your plans?"

"I actually need to leave in about fifteen minutes," she glanced at her watch and swallowed another bite of her pastry. "I'm going to put in a few hours at The Foundation and then I could come meet you for lunch."

"Perfect." His eyes sparkled as he watched her. They fell into a comfortable silence for a few moments; Blair's mind working overtime as she finished half her food and her coffee. Dan watched her; entranced with the look in her eyes as she planned her day. It was almost as though he could see the brilliance happening right in front of him.

"You're staring," she smiled smugly, her eyes meeting his.

"I always stare," he grinned. "You would think you would be used to it after all of these years."

"You would think," she laughed. "What's on your mind Humphrey?"

"I was wondering what my chances might be of convincing you to be a little late to work…" His hand reached for hers as his voice drop suggestively.

"Hmmm…" Her head cocked to the side thoughtfully. "How late?"

"Pretty late…" He winked at her, his intentions clear.

"Well…." She sighed, already feeling the heat building up. "I suppose I might be able to be convinced."

"That's what I like to hear," Dan brought her hand to his lips. "Care to join me inside?"

Blair tossed her napkin onto the table, rose to her feet, and moved quickly towards the house; Dan right behind her. "Two steps ahead of you…" She called out. "As usual…" As soon as they stepped into their living room, he pushed the door closed and spun her around.

"Don't be too sure of yourself, Waldorf," his voice was low and husky; his breath hot on her neck. Blair giggled as Dan's arms wrapped around her tightly; holding her body flush to his.

"You know…" She breathed, her fingers twisting in his hair; pulling his face to meet hers. "It's been Humphrey for years."

"Forty-two in fact," Dan grinned just before moving his lips to hers; the very best method he had ever employed to silence his wife; perhaps the only one. As the laughter faded from Blair's mouth, Dan's tongue filled the void. With grace and purpose, Dan moved them towards the couch; the closest flat surface to the door. Blair's hands were already through his shirt buttons and were pulling at the waist of his pants. Working quickly to catch up with her, he felt laughter rumble in his chest and the echo of laughter that was coming from Blair. In a moment they were both completely undressed and ready for the other.

It was moments like this that made him sigh with deep gratitude. Their children were grown and they had been alone in their home for years. They could come and go as they pleased. They could spend the entire day sans clothing, making love in every room. It was these moments, tumbling onto the couch with Blair, naked and warm in the autumn sun that beamed in through the large windows; it was these moments that made him feel whole, content; satisfied.

Yes, he knew she had to be in to work. Yes, he needed to get out to the loft. But that morning, he was slow and persistent, lavishing attention over her soft skin. Their love making was not of the rushed variety it had been thirty years earlier. It was a well thought out process, a marathon instead of a sprint. And Blair swore that the end results were even sweeter.

When they were finished, Blair stretched her hands out over her head as she let out a contended sigh. Dan had pulled a throw from the back of the couch and they were cuddled together underneath it. Nuzzling into the crook of his neck, Blair inhaled; taking his scent in.

"Do you really have to go in?" Dan kissed her temple, his fingers playing lazily with hers.

"No…." She smiled. "But I should. We're gearing up for the big fundraiser and…they need me."

"Okay…" Dan groaned but pressed his lips to hers again. "Are you still going to come have lunch with me?"

"Absolutely," Blair leaned closer to him. With one final kiss, Dan moved from the couch. Blair's grin stretched across her face as she watched him dress; her eyes flowing over his body, settling on his smile.

"If you keep looking at me like that…" He warned with a smirk.

"Fine," Blair huffed as she sat up; wrapping the throw around her, towel style. "I'm going to go freshen up and then I'll head out. Come here…" She tugged at his shirt almost completely re-buttoned; pulling him to her for another kiss. "I love you."

"I love you too," he held her tight for a beat and then, releasing her, he finished dressing and watched her walk down the hallway. "I'll see you at one?"

"I'll see you then!" She called back without another glance in his direction. Dan collected their plates and mugs from breakfast, pulled on a sweater, gathered his bag. He was out the door and on his way to Brooklyn by the time Blair was dressed and heading out.

X-X-X-X-X-X-X

Dan loved working at the loft. He loved the way it made him feel. The renovations Blair had managed had made the place into the perfect working environment. She had installed large doors to the rooftop terrace, which were open and allowing a light breeze into the space. Dan sat at his desk, flipping through pages of a book he had ordered specifically for this instance.

He hadn't been entirely honest with Blair that morning. While he did need to go to the loft to work and he did have a lecture at NYU soon; that was not what he was going to the loft to work on. His Forty-second anniversary was rapidly approaching and that meant two things. Well…he smiled to himself…three things.

One, it had been forty-two years since Blair Waldorf had become Blair Humphrey. Forty-two years of love and laughter; screaming and fighting; happiness and despair. They had made it forty-two years and neither of them had any major scars; physically or metaphorically.

Two, he needed to find the perfect book. With most media available almost exclusively electronically at this point, Dan had worked to track down this book for their collection; their collection that any museum in the city (or the world for that matter) would love to get their hands on—or so Blair insisted. Dan read through the familiar words, searching for the passage he swore was in there; intent on giving her that book on their anniversary

And three, he needed to get his journal to the printer. Since the day he had married her, he had been turning his words over to her once a year. She housed the collection on the shelves she had installed in their room when they had done the major remodel at home. Their children had asked about them, many times. But Dan had asked Blair to wait until he was gone before she let the kids read them; thinking they might feel more connection and have less questions.

Dan sipped from his mug of coffee and relaxed into his chair. His eyes traveled around the space. His dad had been gone for years now but Dan knew he would have loved this. He would have loved that the loft was still in the family, still in use, still so familiar and comforting. He would have loved that, despite the recent flocking of the elite to the area, this space still held its old aesthetic. Blair had gone to great lengths to change the space while maintaining all of those things that made it the loft they remembered.

Blair…Dan's smile widened and his eyes grew soft… _Blair Waldorf. Who would have ever guessed. _His fingers held the pen like an appendage as he wrote the words down in his worn notebook he carried everywhere he went. _Forty-two years. Forty. Two. Years._ Dan chuckled and laid his pen down on the desk. It was these moments that made him sigh with bliss; whole, content; satisfied.

X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X

Blair finished up at The Foundation earlier than she had expected. Dan's promise of lunch and the memory of their interlude on the couch served as a strong motivator. With a smile and wave to her assistant, she slipped from the building and into the waiting town car. Yes, she had taken many a cab to Brooklyn; even the subway more than once. But as she grew older, she grew closer to her Upper East Side roots and craved the creature comforts that came with it.

The ride to Brooklyn was busier than she had thought it would be, but it allowed her a few moments to clear her mind; a few moments to let work go and focus on where she was headed. Glancing down into her purse, she smiled at the worn copy of "A Separate Peace" and reached for her phone; checking her messages. Their son had called. He was just checking in. Being the only one of their children in the city, the responsibility had fallen easily on his shoulders. But he didn't mind and Blair secretly loved it. Tossing her phone back into her bag, she let her head rest against the seat and she watched as the buildings flew by.

She was excited to see Dan; anxious to see what he was working on and determined to force him to try the new restaurant that had opened in the place where Giodonne's had been. He was still bitter that it had closed down so many years ago, but Blair had heard wonderful things about the new place and she was going to try it. Her slight pout and 'éclair look' still worked on her husband more often than not and she had zero reservations about using it.

"Oh!" Blair exclaimed, sitting up in her seat. "Can you stop here please?" She asked the driver.

"Ma'am?" He smiled at her over the seat.

"I want to pick up some flowers from this stand and then I can walk the rest of the way," the car slowed to a stop and she reached for the handle.

"You're going to walk?"

"Yes," she narrowed her eyes. "I'm in excellent shape. And it's just around the corner, you know."

"Yes ma'am," he smiled at her and nodded.

"You can head back to the city," and with a small smile and a wave, Blair dismissed the car and driver. Taking her time at the fresh flower stand, she decided on a small bouquet of orange and white garden dahlias and then she was on her way.

Blair moved slowly; taking her time to take in the scenery. The neighborhood had changed over the years and now, with high end retailers and eateries taking residence, it had more of an Upper East Side feel than ever. It was funny to her though, that as the landscape changed, she found that she actually missed what it had been. Her eyes scanned the people, the action as she continued on towards her destination.

It was three steps until she turned the corner. Three steps until she would be on the right street. Three steps until she knew she could see the loft.

Three steps until her world slowly began to unravel.

Blair rounded the corner and her heart jumped. Taking a deep breath, her step quickened and her mind went into instant denial mode.

That ambulance couldn't be parked on this street.

Those EMTs couldn't be rushing into the building she was heading towards.

She moved faster and faster; cursing the size of the city blocks in New York, cursing her shoes, cursing everything that stood between her and the loft.

The flowers fell to the ground as she reached the door. Her breath was coming up in quick bursts as she hurried up the stairs.

The door to the loft was wide open. She shook her head; her vision blurring slightly.

The sounds of chaos _couldn't_ be coming from inside.

Except they were.

A strangled sort of sound came from her throat as she moved to step through the doors but she was met with a large man who stepped in her path and served as a wall between her and what was happening.

"Excuse me ma'am, but you can't…"

"This is my…" She fought for breath, fought for control. "Home…my _husband_…" And the look that washed over the man's face told her all she needed to know.

She had walked into an absolute disaster. She moved to walk around him, but he held out his arm; his voice trying to be comforting, his arm trying to keep her from seeing what he would never want his wife to see.

"But my husband…" She struggled against him.

"Dan Humphrey?" He asked her, knowing the answer.

"Yes," she nodded frantically; her teeth biting into her lower lip.

"He's gone," he spoke softly but firmly. "I'm sorry ma'am. Your husband called 911 reporting chest pains. We responded immediately, but he was gone before we got here."

"Gone?" Her forehead crinkled and her heart sped.

"The Coroner is here now," the man explained. "And there is a Social Worker on her way here to see you and…"

"A Social Worker?" Blair's voice was loud and shrill and drew attention to her. "I don't want to see a Social Worker! I want to see my husband!" She pushed at the man and moved, her feet moving quickly as she pressed past him. "And what do you mean he had chest pains? He was fine this morning at breakfast. He is healthy and young and…" She stopped in her tracks at the scene before her; the chaos surrounding his desk.

The stretcher, the equipment, the uniformed men and women and there on the floor—Dan.

The breath rushed out of her. The heat left her body. Her stomach clenched and her heart sank to the ground.

"He's dead," the man from the door spoke from beside her. "He was gone before we arrived, ma'am. I'm so sorry. Please, can you please have a seat here in this chair? There are some people who need to speak to you and…" Though his words continued, Blair's ability to register them did not. She turned away abruptly. Blinking back her tears, blinking back the image of Dan on the floor surrounded by tubing and wires; Blair let the man lead her to the soft leather sofa they had added to the space. As she sank into the cushion, she sank into her mind; into something much darker and colder than she had ever felt in her life.

Dan was gone. At 64. He had left her that morning with an I Love you and a promise for lunch. And then he had left her. Forever.

X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X

Blair had no idea how long she had been there; sitting on the floor next to the spot Dan had last occupied. The Social Worker had arrived almost immediately after Blair had sat down. She was a sweet girl, couldn't have been older than the twins. She spoke to Blair in a soft monotone and worked with the officers to gather Dan's wallet and wedding ring; the few personal items he had on him when he died. She placed them in his bag and sat it next to Blair's near the door. She explained what was going to happen and sat with Blair till it was all over.

Blair didn't look back at him again. They had offered to allow her time and space to see him, to say something. But she declined. That wasn't her husband anymore. Her husband was gone. And every single cell in her body wanted to save the image of him from that morning; the breakfast they had shared, the love they had made. She wanted this new image, this new memory as far from her mind as possible.

The Social Worker had insisted Blair call somebody; a family friend or a relative. Blair had shaken her head and refused; thinking that repeating this story to any of them automatically made it worse. But the Social Worker prevailed and Blair made the phone calls; one to each of her children, one to Jenny, and one to the Archibald household. How she ever made it through those moments would forever elude her. All of them had cried. All of them had crumbled. And they were all on their way home. She would have suspected nothing less.

Finally, after holding Blair's hand and diverting her attention while the Coroner removed Dan's body, the Social Worker gave Blair her business card and a hug and—after offering to stay until somebody else arrived—she did as Blair had asked and left her alone.

She had moved from the couch to the floor next to where they had found him, next to where she had seen him. On her way past his desk, she had pulled his sweater from the back of his chair and held it to her stomach; hoping the hurt would wane. But it didn't. The scent of _him_ flooded her mind and it hit her like a train. Blair sank to the floor, letting her body slump back against the wall, and allowed her emotions to take over. And the tears flowed freely.

Somewhere in her mind Blair heard the door open. Somewhere in her mind, she heard the footsteps; she heard him call for her. But it wasn't until he was standing in front of her that any of it registered; his voice cracked as he spoke her name. Blair looked up from her spot on the floor and, with a deep breath, met Nate's eyes. And she instantly regretted it. The hurt on his face made it worse. He was visibly shaken; his world turned upside down. Her gaze shifted to the side and he cleared his throat.

"I know you don't want me here," he began, recalling her demands from earlier.

"Yet here you are…" Her voice was hoarse and scratchy and told of her hours spent crying in this very spot.

"Jack called me," Nate explained, moving closer to her; his eyes filling with the tears he had hoped to keep at bay until he could take her home.

"Jackson…" Her voice cracked as she thought of her oldest son. Her son that the Social Worker had insisted she call. Her son who had to be the first to hear the news.

"He said he wanted to come out to get you, to take you home…" Her mind flashed to those hazy, unsteady moments that Jack had been on the phone, begging her to tell him where she was. Wanting to be alone in this space, she had refused. But of course Nate knew where to find her.

"This _**is **_home," she bit off; her emotions like waves—large, tsunami-like waves; knocking her over again and again.

"Yeah…" Nate sighed. He had known this wouldn't be easy. He had known very well that he was walking into the Lion's Den when he came. But this was Blair; the friend he had known his entire life, the friend who had stood by him through his absolute lowest, the friend who just lost the love of her life. So, even though he very much expected to leave with scars, he was going in anyway.

"Listen," Blair began, wiping at her tears, still avoiding his eyes. "I…"

"I'm not leaving." Nate shrugged off his jacket and tossed it aside.

"Nate…" She warned, wondering if her eyes would ever be dry again.

"I am not leaving." His voice was firm as he lightly tugged at his slacks and moved to sit next to her on the floor. "You might be able to tell Jack what to do, but that doesn't work with me. You can yell, you can scream. You can throw things or hit things…or hit me even. But I am not leaving here without you."

"Well, then you should make yourself comfortable because it's going to be a long time." Her jaw was set; stubborn and certain.

"That's fine," Nate shrugged and leaned back against the wall. "I have nowhere to be. Nothing to do."

"Shouldn't you be with your wife?"

"No," Nate shook his head. "Steph is at your place, waiting for everyone to arrive," Nate's voice was low.

"What about Evan?"

"Evan is with Jack." Something about the way Nate's voice twisted around Jack's name caused a red flag to pop up in Blair's mind.

"Is he okay?" She turned her head towards Nate, searching his face; her thoughts diverted for the briefest of moments.

"He's…" Nate sighed and let his head fall back against the wall. "No, he's not. He's sad and…He's worried about you. He said you wouldn't tell him where you were, that you wouldn't let him come to you…he said…"

"I couldn't," Blair admitted with defeat; fresh tears tumbling from her eyes. "I couldn't see him, Nate. Not Jack. Not now. He has…he has _**Dan's**_ eyes. He just looks so much like him and I…" She shook her head, trying to shake it off but failing completely. As another wave of grief washed over her, Nate wrapped an arm around her and pulled her close. And there they sat; Nate and Blair on the floor of the loft crying over the man they both loved and admired; the man whose absence meant that their group would forever be altered; that their circle was another link weaker.

They cried together for a long time; sobbing and sniffling and as it slowly calmed down, Blair looked up at her friend with tear streaked eyes and Nate tried for a smile.

"You know…" He took a breath and let it out slowly. "If it will help, I am sure Jack would be happy to wear sunglasses…or a mask…" And despite herself, Blair burst into laughter—the tears never stopping. And her heart hurt. It ached because she was so sad and so broken and so confused by the emotions she felt. And yet, there was this tiny, little fleck of uplift—

"Of course he would," she accepted the box of tissues Nate had reached for from the desk. "Of course he would do that…" And the smile cracked. "He is so much like his father, you know…willing to do whatever it takes to…" And her words came to an end as the tears increased. And the wave of despair rushed over her.

"I know," Nate squeezed her shoulder. "I know." And he did. More than most.

"Does it ever stop hurting like this?" She asked him, trying for hope but knowing better.

"No," Nate shook his head as the image of Serena flashed through his mind. "It dulls and fades but it never goes away." Blair nodded and wiped at her eyes. Seeing an opportunity, Nate leaned up to retrieve his coat. "Can I show you something?"

"Sure," Blair shrugged, still unable to move from her spot.

"Okay," Nate took a deep breath and let it go before he pulled from his coat pocket a book. He seemed almost nervous as he met her eyes.

"You brought me a book?" She couldn't help the small upturn of the corner of her mouth; the small bit of humor she felt at Nate, of all people, bringing her a book. She wondered for the briefest of moments if maybe that was his intent; to make her laugh. But the next words out of his mouth dashed that thought completely from her mind.

"Dan gave me this book," Nate held it in his hand as though it were made of gold and Blair felt that ominous twinge in her chest that warned her of emotions to come; she felt sick. "He gave me this book when Serena died."

"Nate…" Blair's sharp intake of breath was the only response she could muster as her heart thudded in her chest and her hands tightened their hold on Dan's sweater.

"At the time he told me that there was no way he could understand what I was feeling, what it was like to lose somebody you loved so much…" Nate paused for a moment to collect himself while Blair tried to control the lump in her throat. This was what she had feared most about seeing Nate; this trip down this road where both of their soul mates were gone—this horrible thing they now shared in common. But Nate stayed steady as he continued. "He said that if it had been him who had…died…then **this** is what he would want you to read. This is the quote he would want you to have. And then he gave it to me. And I know it sounds crazy, Dan giving me a book…but…"

"Nate…" She whispered, staring at the book with a slight bit of fear; not knowing if she could handle hearing words that Dan had selected himself. "I don't think I can read that…"

"I know," he nodded; his fingers pulling the book open to the marker that had been in the exact same spot for all these years. "It's okay. I couldn't read it for a long time too. But I can now." And then, steeling himself for the emotions this always evoked in him, Nate began to read from the pages of Dean Koontz's _Odd Hours_,_ "Grief can destroy you -or focus you. You can decide a relationship was all for nothing if it had to end in death, and you alone."_ Nate felt Blair's hand tuck inside his arm and hold tightly to him. And he continued. _"OR you can realize that every moment of it had more meaning than you dared to recognize at the time, so much meaning it scared you, so you just lived, just took for granted the love and laughter of each day, and didn't allow yourself to consider the sacredness of it. But when it's over and you're alone, you begin to see that it wasn't just a movie and a dinner together, not just watching sunsets together, not just scrubbing a floor or washing dishes together or worrying over a high electric bill." _Nate took a deep breath and blinked back tears. "_It was __**everything**__, it was the why of life, every event and precious moment of it. The answer to the mystery of existence is the love you shared sometimes so imperfectly, and when the loss wakes you to the deeper beauty of it, to the sanctity of it, you can't get off your knees for a long time, you're driven to your knees not by the weight of the loss but by gratitude for what preceded the loss. And the ache is always there, but one day not the emptiness, because to nurture the emptiness, to take solace in it, is to disrespect the gift of life." _As Nate finished the passage and closed the book, the silence overtook the room and they were both crying; for both of their losses, for both of their broken hearts. The heaviness of the moment felt crushing to Blair, overwhelming almost—that in some crazy, cosmic twist of events, Dan had managed to leave behind a message for her…communicating to her in the intimate way that he had his entire life; through a book, through a quote. And of course he would put it into Nate's hands, making it almost certain that she would not be alone when she read it. Setting the book aside, Nate pulled her close and kissed her forehead. "I'm so sorry Blair. I am so, so sorry…" And Blair nodded, closed her eyes and let the tears fall down her cheeks. Nate had no idea how much time had passed before he could speak again. "Blair…the loft…why can't you leave? I mean, I know it was special and that you spent time here. But you've been in your home for over forty years, you've lived there since the beginning, the kids grew up **there**. Why do you want to be here right now?"

"This is the last place he was…" She explained simply. "This is the last place Dan was alive. He was…he was sitting at that desk," she lifted her hand weakly to point. "He was…he was reading a book and…" She looked down at her lap; tears dropping darkly onto her skirt. "They said he had a heart attack. That he had chest pains and called an ambulance and that he waited for them but by the time they got here…there was nothing they could…and…I don't know Nate. I just…since they left, I haven't been able to move. I haven't been able to get up off the floor."

"Yeah…" Nate exhaled; his mind racing for something, anything. "Well, maybe we should have gotten you one of those 'life alert' bracelets. You remember those commercials? With the little old lady calling out 'I've fallen and I can't get up'…"

"Nathaniel Archibald," she slapped his arm, allowing the tiniest smiles to form. "Are you calling me an old lady?"

"I would never," he shook his head with a grin. About a minute of silence passed between them before Nate spoke, nudging her shoulder with his. "Do you want my help up off the floor?" He raised his eyebrows and met her gaze. And she knew he wasn't _**only**_ speaking literally. He was offering her his hand to hold, his arm to lean on.

"Why?" She asked; not being difficult, simply wondering. "It's all just…over. Why get up off the floor now?"

"Well, **my** answer would be…that your kids need you. They just lost their father and they are reeling…and we all know that you were always the stronger of the two of you…"

"That is not at all true," she whispered.

"And there's a funeral to plan. I mean…I could do it, but I think we both know that I wouldn't even begin to come close to paying tribute to him the way you would."

"I don't know if I can…" She confessed. Nate nodded, knowing he never would have made it through Serena's funeral without Blair and Dan—his mind had been so jumbled.

"Those would be **my** answers…" Nate took a breath. "But Dan's answer…as to why you should get up off the floor…." Nate gulped at the lump in his throat and reached for the book; offering it to her. Very carefully, and with watery eyes, Blair took the book from his hands.

"To celebrate what preceded the loss?" She recalled the passage.

"To recognize the sanctity of it," Nate kissed the top of her head and tried again. "What do you say Humphrey? You going to come help me plan a proper service?"

"Well…" She sniffed and tried to collect herself. "I guess I can't really let you do it alone…we wouldn't want anyone reading Dr. Seuss from the pulpit." She cracked a tiny smile and Nate grinned.

"I would not eat them in a box. I would not eat them with a fox…" Blair nudged him with her elbow and then, as he rose to his feet and extended his hand, she reached up and allowed Nate to help her up from the floor.

Without bothering to smooth out her skirt or adjust her blouse, Blair moved to Dan's desk. Her eyes took it all in for the first time that day; the hand written scribble of notes he had in a worn notebook he kept with him for spur of the moment ideas, the book held open by a highlighter with the cap still off, the now cold cup of coffee in the ridiculous mug their daughter had made for him in grade school, the framed photo of them at the New York Public library almost forty-two years ago—smiling like the newlyweds they were. Her hands reached out to the desk; needing the support, afraid she would crumble. Her head hung low as the crying increased in an ugly, jagged sort of way.

"Blair," Nate's hand stretched out to comfort her.

"I can't Nate…" Her voice was loud; certain.

"You can."

"I can't…I can't…" She shook her head roughly. "I can't! I can't walk out of here and leave all of this…I can't just walk out of here and…I won't make it Nate!" She turned to him; angry and upset. "I won't survive this. I don't know how…I don't know…" She clutched at his outstretched arms then; her fingers digging into his shirt. "I don't even remember how to live without Dan…"

"I know it doesn't seem like it now, but I promise it is going to…"

"SHUT UP!" Her voice cracked as she screamed into the loft. "Don't tell me it's going to get better! Don't tell me it's going to get easier! Don't tell me it's going to be okay! Dan is dead Nate! DEAD!" Her tiny fists hit at his chest as tears welled in his eyes. This was exactly what he had expected. "He's dead….he's…."

"I know…" He whispered.

"They took him out of here in a…" Blair's voice trailed off; unable to actually say it out loud. "I don't know if I can do this Nate…I really don't think I can…" And then her knees buckled and she slumped into his arms. And he held her. He held her up and he held her close and dammit if he didn't cry right along with her because Nate knew. It didn't get easier. It didn't get better and it was never, ever going to be okay.

"Listen to me okay…" Nate's voice was low, his breath rustling her hair as he held her tight. "You don't have to do it for you. You don't have to hold it together for you…or even for Dan. He wouldn't expect you to be standing on your own right now; not for him…" Nate gulped and continued. "But you have to stand up, Blair."

"I can't…" Her voice was muffled against his chest.

"Yes you can. You have to," he was more firm. "You have to do this. Your children are flying in from all over the world and…Blair they are going to need you. They are going to look to you to see how they should be coping with this. They are going to look to you to know what to do. It's okay to cry. It's okay to be the biggest mess you could ever imagine. But right now, I need you to pull it together and come with me. Your kids need you. Your grandkids need you. We all need you…" He kissed the top of her head. "I know you can do this. You were born a Waldorf and you married a Humphrey…from _Brooklyn_…You can do anything." He felt the slightest bit of ease when he heard her breath huff out. "Now…look at me…" He nudged her lightly and she didn't budge. "Look at me." Very slowly Blair's head moved from his chest and tipped up to look at him. Her eyes were puffy, her cheeks were red, and her face was wet and splotchy. "There you go…" He smiled sweetly. "Now give me your hand."

"Nate…" Blair rolled her eyes.

"Just do it," he held his hand out; palm up. Stalling for just a moment, her stubbornness coming out, Blair glanced at the desk.

"Wait…" Her voice was soft as she turned from Nate, facing his desk, his things. With a deep breath pulled Dan's sweater over her arms and then she reached out and very carefully pulled the book he was reading, being mindful of the page he was on, and his notebook into her hands. Tucking them close to her chest; next to her heart, she looked to Nate and nodded. "Okay." Her small shaky hand moved into his large, steady one and then with one last, tear-filled look around, she allowed Nate to move her from the spot. He pulled her away from the desk. He gathered her bag and Dan's and moved her out the doors of the loft, past the flowers she had dropped on the sidewalk and into the car he had waiting on the street.

Blair sobbed the whole way across the bridge; large, wet tears that seemed to never end. For the briefest of moments she felt the tiniest sense of relief. She had made it off the floor and out of the loft. But, as they neared the Upper East Side, her heart sank further. Entering their home, seeing their children—their grandchildren—planning a memorial service, it was only going to get worse. Living without Dan was only going to get worse.

X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X

When they pulled up in front of their building, Blair stalled and Nate persisted. He held his arm around her shoulders as they walked through the lobby. He rubbed her back as they stood in the elevator and when they stepped into her home, Nate was holding onto her hand.

They were alone in her home for less than a minute before everyone began descending. First it was Steph, Nate's beautiful, kind second wife. With hugs and sympathies, she stood tall next to Nate; ready to help his friend as best she could.

And then the kids began to arrive.

Evan came with top-shelf liquor and plates of food from the restaurant.

Jack was next. When he arrived, Blair forced herself to meet his eyes, to revel in the fact that he looked so much like his father; a more athletic, cockier version; but his father nonetheless. She had been so afraid to see him, afraid to see Dan's eyes, Dan's smile. But she found that seeing him began to ease the stress in her lungs; allowing her to breathe just a little easier. With him came his feisty, gorgeous wife Jess with her ability to organize and direct. She had an amazing fashion sense that would prove handy in the days to come; taking it upon herself to pull a few options for Blair to wear to Dan's service.

Next was Josh; Dr. Humphrey. He was brilliant beyond belief; his mind leaps and bounds above both Dan and Blair. Standing next to him was his equally brilliant wife. Blair remembered the first time she met Olivia; how unconventional and unnerving it had all been. But, as she watched this enchanting woman soothe her son's grief with the slightest touch of hand, Blair remembered exactly how it was they had all become enamored with her. She was sweet and lovely and felt like she had been a part of the family forever.

Lastly was Hannah; their baby. The terrible news had reached her in Italy just as she had put her children to sleep. She had packed a bag in a hurry and had caught the next flight out of the country. Her husband and children would follow the next day. She hated to be without them; hated not having them there with her, but they had decided to let the children sleep. Her husband, as loving and adoring of her as Dan had been of Blair, would fly with them to meet her the next day.

Blair would always remember being thankful in those moments that her children had chosen their mates so wisely. It truly was the most important decision she had ever made.

As each of them walked through the door, they went immediately to their mother. They would hug and cry and put voice to the utter disbelief that consumed them. And then they would seek each other; the comfort and love and understanding that only came with siblings; siblings who had lost a parent.

Blair was a mixture of emotions. She finally had them all at home with her for the first time in years. Everyone was there…and it had never felt so empty. The house was alive with family and her heart was dying with grief.

It was very late before Blair had finally decided to go to bed. The kids had arrived in a staggered fashion; igniting the emotions in the room every time one of them walked through the door. Steph had made dinner; an amazingly prepared spread that went relatively uneaten. Nate had remained a constant; catching Blair's gaze, offering a smile or a reassuring nudged.

Blair wore Dan's sweater the entire day and into the night. It was comforting; physically and emotionally. It was soft and cozy and smelled of him and somewhere in her mind she felt some sort of peace knowing that _his_ arms had been in these sleeves and now hers were.

It was well past two in the morning before she dared to enter their room. The kids had all gone off to their rooms; settling in for the night. Nate had offered to stay there with her; sleep on the couch if he had too. But Blair had hugged him close and pushed him towards the door; Steph and Evan close behind.

In an act of self-preservation, she avoided looking towards the doors to their office, to their library, to the many memories that were housed there. She wrapped his sweater tighter around her and walked right past those doors and into their room. But she should have known better. There was just as much of Dan in this room as there was anywhere in the house. She stopped short in the doorway; considering for the briefest of moments calling Nate and staying with him and Steph for the night.

"Pull it together Humphrey," she chastised herself and stepped in; shutting the door behind her.

With a deep breath, she dressed for bed; pulling his sweater on over her pajamas. With a lump in her throat, she removed her jewelry; placing her rings in the same dish she had placed them in every night. Only this time she added Dan's ring to the pile. And the tears returned. Surrendering to the moment, she washed her face and brushed her teeth and then, wishing she could close her eyes and forget about all of it, Blair climbed into their bed.

She laid there, eyes on the ceiling, her hand stretching to where he usually was; to where he had been for forty-two years. She lay there, crying alone, for the longest time, her mind working overtime, before she couldn't take it any longer. Pushing the covers back, she rose from the bed and quietly made her way through the house. Stopping in the living room, she let her eyes travel across the windows; the lights of the city sparkling like stars. She moved to the couch; the very couch she had been on with Dan less than twenty four hours ago. She pulled the very same blanket over her and snuggled into the soft fabric. It was then that she saw it; Dan's bag. The one he had taken with him to the loft; the one Nate had brought with him when he brought Blair home.

Sitting up, she reached for the strap and pulled it towards her. Her breath caught in her throat as she retrieved his notebook and the book he had left on his desk. Steeling herself for the waves of tears she knew were on the way, she sat back and flipped open the notebook. Her fingers moved quickly through the pages to the last one with writing on it. She traced the ink as her eyes focused; the words leaping out to meet her. _Blair Waldorf. Who would have ever guessed. Forty-two years. Forty. Two. Years._ She wiped at her eyes. They were so close to their anniversary. Realizing for the first time that the book in her hand must be…she gulped. The book in her hand must have been her gift. It had been lying on the desk, open, next to a highlighter. It must have been her gift. Unsure if she could handle that moment, she sat the book on the table with the notebook right next to it. And her mind unraveled into the dangerous land of 'what if's'.

What if she had left the foundation office sooner? What if she hadn't stopped for flowers? What if she had been there when it happened? What if she had been able to do something to help him? What if she had given into her early morning desires and stayed home with him? What if…her eyes grew wide and her throat tightened. She looked to the couch she was sitting on, the blanket that was wrapped around her and she leapt immediately to her feet.

_What if she had killed him?_ She had meant what she said to the paramedic that morning; Dan was young and healthy and his body was in great shape. She had struggled throughout the day trying to figure out what could have possibly caused his heart to stop beating so suddenly and it had never occurred to her until this exact moment as she sat on the couch where they had made love only hours before Dan had left the world.

"Oh my God…" Her heart beat frantically as her mind panicked. "Oh my…oh…" She was going to be sick.

"Mom?" Josh's voice pulled her momentarily from the edge. Blair's head turned sharply towards him; trying to slow her breathing. "Mom are you okay?" Concern had crept into his voice.

"Yes…" It sounded more like a question than an answer. And then, because even with her son in the room, even when she was trying to be strong, the heaviness was too much to keep at bay; she began to cry. Josh moved to her side quickly; his own eyes welling up. "I'm sorry…I….oh my God…"

"Are you okay?" He looked her over, searching for signs of distress. Having just lost his father, Josh was on high alert for anything wrong with his family. Blair looked up into her son's eyes, debating if she should tell him, if she should dare bring it up with her son. But he _was_ a doctor, he would know. She nodded her head and fought to control her breathing. Josh rubbed her arms soothingly. "I have to tell you…I'm more than a little worried about you right now. With all that has happened today I just…"

"I'm okay…" She spoke softly, her eyes wide with vulnerability. She swallowed the lump in her throat and took a breath. "I just…Can I ask you something? As a doctor?" Josh blinked as his stomach turned. They were going to talk about his father.

"Yeah," he breathed; trying for normal. He ran a hand through his hair and moved towards the couch, pulling Blair with him. Reluctantly she went, sitting on the edge of the cushion. "You can, um…you can ask me anything." He had assumed there would be lots of questions for him; he had tried to prepare for this moment. But seeing his mother, his strong independent mother so torn and so fragile, he wasn't sure he could have ever prepared for the feeling that settled in his stomach.

"I…" Blair looked down at her hands; struggling between wanting to know the answer and wanting to keep her son as far away from this as possible. Looking down at her hands in her lap, she took a breath. "He...he had a heart attack."

"I know," Josh nodded, his voice tiny and quiet.

"Something had to have caused that…right?"

"Caused it?" Josh's forehead crinkled. "What do you mean?"

"He was young and healthy and…" Blair sighed. "His heart wouldn't have just given out, would it?"

"Well…" Josh began, his brain switching to doctor mode for the moment.

"I mean…" Blair interrupted him. "Is there a chance that something he did…something he…is there a chance that…"

"Mom," Josh's hand fell onto hers; steady, reassuring. "What is it you're trying to ask me?"

"I'm trying to…" She patted his hand and took a breath. "Hypothetically speaking, if a man who was relatively young and healthy had…if he had…had sex, with his wife…in the morning…" Blair felt the heat in her cheeks as she avoided Josh's eyes. "Would that be something that could cause a heart attack? Hypothetically?"

"Whoa…" Josh breathed; his mind scattered. "Are you asking me if…whoa…"

"Josh…" The way she spoke his name brought his wits back. She was serious. "I just…I haven't been able to…"

"No," he interrupted her; his years of training kicking in.

"No?" Her voice cracked with relief.

"No," he shook his head. "Even if…_hypothetically_…the sex was…physically demanding, a man—in the kind of shape he was in—it wouldn't be something that would cause him to have a massive heart attack."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes," he breathed. "Here let me…" He squeezed her hand and stepped from the room. When he returned he had some papers in his hand. Sitting next to her again, he held them up. "Before I boarded the plane, I contacted the hospital here and had them send me the report from…" He trailed off as he thought of Dan and all he had gone through at the end. "I spent the entire flight going over and over it…trying to figure out what I had missed and…"

"What you had missed?" Blair interrupted; confused.

"Yeah…" His eyes welled up with tears; an unexpected surge of emotion rolling through him. "I was his _doctor_, mom. I saw him less than six months ago. I should have caught this. I should have known. I…"

"No," Blair shook her head.

"But…"

"No!" Her voice was loud, commanding. "No. We're not going to…you listen to me, I spoke to the paramedics myself. I spoke to the Coroner. This was completely out of the blue. It was an accident...a shock. You can't blame yourself for this…"

"I can't **not** blame myself for this," Josh's head hung into his hands.

"Joshua," Blair reached out, her hands on his cheeks, forcing him to look at her. "You are an amazing physician. The top of your field…but even you can't see into the future, you can't see symptoms that weren't there. And there were no symptoms. The first time there was a sign of anything was…was when he called the ambulance with chest pains. This was an accident a…" Blair spoke the words for Josh and for herself. "It was an accident and your dad…" She wiped at the tears in her eyes. "Your father would rather die all over again than to have you sit here blaming yourself for this."

"I know you're right," Josh rubbed at his eyes; surrendering to the truth. "I know that. But it's hard not to think of the…"

"What if's?" Blair supplied, looking down at her hands.

"It wasn't you," Josh reached for her hand. "I promise you…" He took a deep breath. "And dad…he would rather die all over again than to have you sit here blaming yourself for this." Blair let out a strangled sort of moan as she nodded; tears slipping from her eyes. He was right. Dan would have hated the thought of either of them taking blame for his death; it would be the absolute last thing he would have ever wanted.

"Okay…" Blair finally spoke; sniffing as she nodded and just as she opened her mouth to thank him, they heard footsteps approaching. Both sets of eyes traveled to the doorway. In moments Hannah and a very rumpled Jack appeared.

"Mom?" Hannah squinted as she stepped into the room. "Josh?"

"What are you guys doing up?" Jack looked from his mother to his brother.

"We were just…" Josh shook his head, searching his mind for an answer.

"Not sleeping," Blair offered. "I was having a hard time sleeping and Josh…he was keeping me company." And their eyes met in a shared understanding; a shared comfort.

"I couldn't sleep either," Hannah confessed; moving to sit next to her mother.

"And you?" Blair looked to Jack.

"I was sleeping just fine…Hannah woke me up," he gestured at his sister; his mouth opening in a wide yawn.

"_Hannah_…" Blair narrowed her eyes.

"Well…he makes the best waffles," she confessed. "I'm used to a different time zone and I'm hungry and…" She choked up. "Next to dad…Jack makes the best waffles." And just like the tears in their eyes, the memories of Dan flooded into the room; rendering them all momentarily speechless. The four of them scrunched together on the couch; each of them crying, each of them thinking of the one, vital piece they were missing.

"Okay…" Blair was the first to speak. "Tomorrow is going to be…long. I think I'm going to try again." She patted the knees of her children and rose to her feet. "I'll see you all in the morning."

"Wait," Hannah called out. "I think I'll…can I…" Hannah wiped at her eyes. "Would it be okay if I came and slept with you?"

"Of course," Blair nodded; seeing her daughter's overwhelming grief. She held out her hand and offered a smile. "Come on…"

"Hey…" Jack called out as Hannah moved to Blair's side. "I thought you wanted waffles."

"I did," she smiled sweetly at him; hoping he wouldn't be able to be angry with her. "But I lost my appetite and I just want to go to sleep and…"

"So you woke me up for nothing?" Jack raised his eyebrows in a challenge.

"Well, technically…" Her eyes shifted to the ground. "Yes. I did…I'm sorry Jack."

"Ugh…" Jack groaned, helpless against the look in her eyes. "Don't worry about it. We'll see you in the morning."

And after a round of I love you's and goodnight's, Blair and Hannah padded away; leaving Josh and Jack beside each other on the couch. The feeling in the room was heavy, somber; both of them feeling all the weight that had been a part of the day. Josh let his head fall back against the couch; a ragged sigh escaping his lips. Jack scrubbed his hands over his face and studied his brother; always the more serious of the two, always the more emotional of the two.

"You okay?" Jack nudged his twin with his foot. Josh sighed again, trying to sort it all out in his mind.

"No…" Josh shook his head.

"You want to…" Jack began.

"Talk about it?" Josh finished. He gulped at the lump in his throat and in a small voice, he admitted, "mom just asked me if her and dad having sex yesterday morning is what killed him." And on any other day, in any other moment, the mere mention of their parents having sex would have sent them both into a round of protests, laughter, and completely inappropriate jokes. But no that night, not in that moment.

"Wow…" Jack let out a breath.

"Yeah."

"And…"

"And what?" Josh looked to his brother. "Did sex kill him?"

"Well…I run restaurants and high end clubs across the city. _You're_ the doctor…"

"No." Josh shook his head. "No. That's not what killed him. She didn't...nobody _killed_ him. He just..." Tears slipped from Josh's eyes as he spoke the words. "He just died." The room grew quiet as the two boys; the two men, were reduced to tears. Memories of their dad sitting heavy in their minds.

Jack was the first to break the silence. "Did she believe you?" Josh raised his eyebrows. "When you told her?"

"I don't know...I think so. She seemed to accept it."

"Was it the truth?" Jack's eyes were wide and vulnerable and Josh immediately nodded.

"Yes. It's the truth. I could…I have the Coroner's report. If you want me to go over it with you and explain why…I could…"

"No," Jack interrupted; he would prefer to just take his brother's word for it. "No. That's fine. Is she…mom…is she going to be okay?" Though he was quite certain he knew the answer.

"Yes…no…" Josh shook his head, "...eventually..."

"Yeah," Jack's voice was low. "Are we?"

"I don't know," Josh whispered and, for the second time in five minutes the two men were left; alone on the couch deep in emotions and memories.

The preparations began the next morning. Blair's unparalleled ability to plan an event of great magnitude paid off tenfold. She was incredibly thankful that it was almost instinct to her; second nature. She knew, with absolute certainty, that if it hadn't been, the service would have never been planned. But her mind and her heart immediately clung to this sense of normalcy that the preparations offered.

Nate would do the eulogy. He had come over bright and early the next morning; offering to speak for his friend. He would provide the sentiments and his wife, the professor, would help with the language and syntax. Following his eulogy, the others would have a chance to speak should they choose to do so. Blair would choose to do so.

As she struggled to think of the words she might be able to use to pay homage to Dan, she became more and more certain. There was only one way to do this...she would have to go into the office. The office she had avoided with great purpose; protecting her heart from the emotion she knew would be there. But, as she sat with pen and paper, forcing her mind to think of him, she surrendered to the inevitable. On her second full day without Dan, she gathered all of her shreds of strength, and a full glass of wine, and she went in.

And it was amazing. She shut the door behind her and breathed a sigh of relief. She had been so worried that it would make her sad, that the grief would be overwhelming. But it didn't make her sad, it didn't overwhelm her; quite ever opposite in fact. She felt _him_ in there. And that was better than anything she had felt in 24 hours.

Blair dove into the books with quite a few tears and a handful of laughs and when she emerged...she was more than happy with the end result. And knowing him as she did, she assumed he would be too. With her handwritten words in her pocket and a few books and notes in her hands, she moved through their home into the kitchen and straight to the bulletin board. Ever since the children were very young, Blair had been using a wall in the kitchen near the informal dining table as a communication center. There was a large calendar that used to tell of doctor's appointments, soccer matches, and birthday parties. There was a place for mail. There was a place to leave notes for another family member. But the centerpiece of the wall was the bulletin board containing articles for the family to read, notes or inspirational quotes. There were photos and postcards. She had been using it for years. The kids had made fun of her but they had secretly loved it. And there was even one time when Jack took over the bulletin board, though Blair still knew nothing of that particular weekend.

Moving to the bulletin board, she removed the articles and reminders and replaced them with excerpts of Dan's work, notes she had found in his desk and, finally, a quote she had found from Washington Irving; a quote she felt could serve them all.

"_There is sacredness in tears. They are not the mark of weakness, but of power. They speak more eloquently than ten thousand tongues. They are messengers of overwhelming grief...and unspeakable love." _

"It's beautiful..." Blair turned around to see Olivia; her voice soft as smiled up at the board. "He would have loved it..." Her eyes teared up as she remembered her father-in-law. Blair smiled softly and held her hand.

"Yes…" She agreed. "He would have loved it."

X-X-X-X-X-X-X

The memorial service took place at Astor Hall at the NY Public Library. Candles lined the stairs out front, just as they did at their wedding; though the tone inside was much more somber. Blair knew it was an unconventional choice for a Memorial Service, but she didn't care. They loved the books and the books were there. Blair barely slept the night before, her mind busy with the list of things she wanted to remember. But she woke, she dressed, and she drank the coffee that would sustain her through the morning. And then, with her large family assembled, they had made their way to the library where they would meet the Archibald clan and the Minister who held Dan's ashes.

It was a beautiful service. There were throngs of people; friends, family, fans. Nate read the eulogy; a beautiful, touching piece of work that spoke to the man Dan had been, the lives he had touched.

The boys were a mess; neither of them able to speak. So when Nate finished his words and returned to Steph's side and the Minister looked to the family, there was Little Hannah rising to her feet; determined to rise to the occasion. _She_ was the author; her father's daughter. Armed with a few choice books, she moved to the front; her deep dark eyes wide and wet as she looked out over the crowd of mourners and there, with a shaky voice, she read her father's words. Memorializing him with his own thoughts, his own brilliance; his own work.

As Hannah's speech drew to a close, she paused; her voice catching on a small laugh in her throat. "Whoa," she swallowed amidst her tears. "That was longer than I expected. My dad would have flagged me down by now..." A small chuckle rumbled through the crowd. "Actually, that's not at all true. He used to tell me _I could listen to you forever_…" Hannah blinked at the tears. "He would tell me how his mother had joked about his rambling ways. He told me about how my mother used to want Jack to just sit and be still and be quiet…" Blair cried at the memory. "But whenever I would ramble…and I'm a Humphrey, I can ramble with the best of them. My dad would tell me _I could listen to you forever_…" There were ten full beats of silence before Hannah could speak again. "And I could too; listen to him forever." Her fingers lingered on the pages of his books. "And fortunately I can." Her voice dropped to a whisper as her eyes moved to the sky. "I'll miss you forever…"

And after Hannah was done, after the mixture of tears and laughter had settled and she had taken her seat next to her husband, Blair squeezed Jack's hand in hers and stood. Clutching the book in her hand as though her life depended on its strength, she moved to the front of the room and faced the crowd. Working hard to avoid the devastating look in Nate's eyes, she channeled all of her energy; all of her strength and closed her eyes. Summoning Dan's image to her mind, she prayed that if she could just pretend he was there, pretend she was speaking to _him_—maybe she would be able to get through this.

Her fingers were slightly shaky as she opened the pages of "A Separate Peace," the very book Dan had given her on their first date. Clearing her throat, she read the passage that would begin the biggest speech of her life, "_I lost part of myself to him then, and a soaring sense of freedom revealed that this must have been my purpose from the first: to become a part of Phineas_."

The words that followed were beautiful. They were touching and thought-provoking and left not one dry eye in all of Astor Hall. But as Blair held her hand close to her heart and returned to her seat next to her children, she knew the words weren't enough. They would never be enough. Dan Humphrey—her husband, her best friend, her lover, her rock, her biggest critic, her loudest fan—there were not enough words inside of her to ever begin to sum up what he had meant to her; the affect his life had had on hers. There never would be. He was gone and he had taken a very large part of her with him.

X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X

Hours later Blair poured an exceptionally large glass of wine and, taking the bottle with her, she slipped out onto the balcony. This day had been the longest day of her life.

Following the service was a reception; where she shook hands and said thank you's and listened to a multitude of stories telling of Dan's exceptional character and intellect. She smiled and nodded and waited for it all to be over.

Following the reception was an intimate gathering; close friends and immediate family. They all came back to her place. The children and their spouses, the grandchildren, Jenny, Eric, Nate and Steph, Evan and his wife and a few others that had heard word of the gathering. Blair received hugs and sympathies and more than one offers to help out however needed. She smiled more authentically and cried more freely. Yet still, she longed for just a moment of quiet; a moment to take it all in.

And the balcony was just the place for that. She slid the door closed behind her and, leaning back against it, she let out a long, labored sigh.

"Blair?" Her eyes flew open as her head turned towards the voice.

"Of course," she breathed and pushed away from the door. "What are you doing out here?"

"Same thing you are I suppose," Nate smiled sadly and patted the spot next to him on the outdoor couch. "Join me?"

"Yeah…" Blair sat down and tucked her feet up and under her. "Wine?" She waved the bottle in her hand.

"Sure," he nodded and reached for the bottle, leaving her the glass. "To Dan?"

"To Dan…" Tears stung at her eyes as the glass clinked. Nate took a long drink from the bottle and wrapped his arm around her shoulders. Blair wiped at her eyes and settled closer to him.

"The eulogy was beautiful, Nate."

"Ha…" Nate's breath puffed out. "Thank you. Though…it will never be…"

"I know," Blair cut in. And she did. And the silence settled. Blair had been searching for this all day; a moment of peace, a moment to reflect. She had wanted to be alone, but had found that having Nate there with her—drinking silently from a bottle of wine—was actually closer to what she needed.

So she sat and drank and allowed her mind to flash back over her life, over Dan's life; over _their _life. As she looked up at Nate, she wondered if he was doing the same thing; if he was thinking about Serena—even after all these years. And then, a thought occurred to her. A tiny, funny little thought that made her laugh. Nate turned to her, confusion etched on his face.

"What's so funny Waldorf?" He nudged her with a smile and she suddenly felt…grateful. Here, on this day of great sadness, she was laughing and Nate had zero judgment in his eyes as he looked at her.

"I was just…" Blair shook her head and took a drink. "I was thinking about Dan and all that we've been through and…and Serena…" She felt Nate tense slightly next to her. "And I thought…how funny is it that here we are. I am with you and Dan…" Her voice cracked as her eyes grew misty. "And Dan is with Serena. Just like it was in the beginning…" And her smile faded; making way for fast tears. Nate sat his bottle on the table and pulled her into both of his arms; holding her tight to him as she cried.

"You know…" He cleared his throat. "In a way...it's better that he went before you."

"Why would you say that me?" Blair pulled away from him, her eyebrows knotted. "That's a horrible thing to say."

"You're so strong Blair," Nate brushed at her tears. "You'll recover…eventually. You'll be able to be here for your kids. Dan…Dan wouldn't make it a year without you. He'd die of a broken heart and you know it."

"Well I feel like I'm dying right now."

"You're not though." He pulled her back to his side. "I know it doesn't seem like it and it will take a long time…but eventually, you're going to be fine. He knew that too. He knew you were the stronger of the two of you." He swallowed and allowed the smallest of smirks to play on his lips. "Why else would he have put up with you all those years?" And, though he caught a sharp elbow to the ribs, Nate was satisfied with the tiny smile that flittered across her face. She was going to be okay.

They sat there, silently drinking the entire bottle of wine, while the gathering inside drew to an end. When the lights were turning off and the wine had been finished, Blair admitted to him that having him next to her made it the slightest bit easier.

"I could stay," he offered with a shrug.

And Blair let out her first out-loud, from the gut laugh. Reminding him that Dan would never be okay with that arrangement, she pushed him from the chair and towards the house. It was time for him to go. It was time for her to go to bed; time for her to be alone.

Hugging her extra tight and pressing a kiss to her forehead, Nate did as she asked and left her there. That night, as Blair made her way to her room, she moved first through the office. She ran her fingers over his desk, smiled at the books on his shelves. She dressed for bed, climbed into the sheets and—pulling his sweater close to her side—she moved to lay on his pillow. It was time for her to be alone.

X-X-X-X-X-X

Eventually the children would leave; returning to their homes, returning to their lives. Eventually Blair would stop crying, though it was a process and there were moments when she slipped and stayed an entire day in bed sobbing over the loss. She returned to work, returned to the loft; returned to this new definition of living.

Blair would even eventually go on a date. It took a long time and tons of dismissed suggestions from her children; a business associate, a client, a former supervisor. But Blair had dismissed them all. Dating had been the furthest thing from her mind.

It wasn't until Hannah, while reading through her father's journals came across a passage from so many years ago. With a great deal of courage, Hannah had approached her mother, page marked and ready. She very gently reminded Blair of a conversation she had where her father had insisted she '_come out of the hole_.' Blair nearly spit her drink from her mouth when Hannah spoke the words and then without so much as a word to her daughter, she went silently to her room; their room to think about all that Hannah had uncovered.

Hannah was right. It had been over a year. They had marked and passed the anniversary of his death and the first and second wedding anniversary she had alone. So finally, with a sigh and more than a few choice words for her late husband, Blair agreed to be set up on her first date without Dan.

His name was Tim and he had worked with Nate for fifteen years. He had two grown children and his wife had died five years earlier from complications from a surgery. He was warm and friendly and not bad looking. He was smart and funny and knew how to treat a lady like Blair. He was prompt and courteous. He held open all the doors and rose to his feet when she walked into the room. He enjoyed old movies and classic literature.

And he was not even close to filling the shoes that Dan had worn.

And he understood that. He knew exactly where she was coming from and he had felt the feelings she was having. He had no expectations and no demands. He offered companionship and patience and a listening ear. And so she agreed to see him again.

On what would constitute as their fifth date, Tim had come up for a drink and, after a long debate over Whitman versus Frost, he had leaned in and kissed her. It was small and simple; barely a peck, but it struck Blair like a blow to the gut.

She tried to remain calm and cool, but he knew instantly. It was too much, too soon. He apologized—profusely—even though she insisted it wasn't necessary. He told her not to feel bad, not to feel strange. He told her that it took him four years before he could date again and then he excused himself and went home.

It took Blair fifteen minutes to arrive at Nate and Steph's door. It took her two full minutes before she could stop crying enough to tell Nate what had happened. That even though Dan was gone, that he had been gone for over a year, that he had _insisted_ she move on should anything happen to him…she couldn't do it. She still felt like she was cheating.

X-X-X-X-X-X-X

It turned out that Nate had been right about Blair. She was strong and she would make it. She would be around to see her grandchildren grow; to see them graduate and marry. She would be around for their first great-grandchild; Daniel Waldorf Humphrey. He had his mother's blue eyes and his father's dark curly hair and the name of the man Blair had spent almost her whole life loving. She eventually saw Tim again; two years after their dreadful fifth date. He commented that she seemed brighter, more at ease. And she commented that he seemed wiser and maybe, maybe…willing to give it another shot.

Blair would never marry again; settling instead for a companionship with a man she respected, a man she was attracted to; a man who, like herself, if given the opportunity, would drop everything and go back to the spouse that had left the world too early. It felt nice, to know that he knew. Dan would always be the love of her life; the man she thought of in each of those big moments in life. Dan would always be her husband; her best friend, her lover, her biggest fan.

And every night before bed, Blair would go to her office and, sitting in Dan's chair, she would open the book he had been reading the day he died, _Again The Magic by Lisa Kleypas,_ and she would turn to the well-worn page and she would read;

"I want morning and noon and nightfall with you. I want your tears, your smiles, your kisses...the smell of your hair, the taste of your skin, the touch of your breath on my face. I want to see you in the final hour of my life...to lie in your arms as I take my last breath." 

She would smile at his choice and sigh at his words. She would revel in her memories for a few moments and then she would close the book and set it back on his desk and she would fall asleep with his image in her mind, his name on her lips; and his heart in hers. Always.

**The End**

**(But remember…if you want to see all that happened up until here, head on back to The Date-it's happier there.)**


	2. Deleting Story

Public Service Announcement

I am going to delete my stories from this website in the next two weeks. There are a few reasons for this. First and foremost, I don't know that I'm ever going to finish it. And I hate that it's sitting there in progress. So I'm going to take it down and keep it. If I ever finish, I will bring it back. Second, I am preparing to "publish" a book in e-reader format at the end of the summer and would like to eliminate all "issues" with any other stories I have before that happens.

If you have any questions or need anything, my email is

(sarabrowncolorado) and I can be found ( ) (yahoo).

Thank you all so much for reading my work. Thank you for all of the wonderful messages you've sent or reviews…thank you for telling your friends to read, for laughing and crying and for all of the friendships and contacts that were developed here.

You're amazing and I wish you the best.

Jo (sarabrowncolorado)


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